


Christmas Stay-Cation

by thecruciblegavemeyou



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M, SnowBaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-25 05:17:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 8,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9804161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecruciblegavemeyou/pseuds/thecruciblegavemeyou
Summary: a christmas-themed snowbaz fic ft. drunk!snowbaz stuck at watford for the holiday





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> this was posted as one massive fic on tumblr but im going to split it up into chapters here

**Simon**

“I just need to be alone right now.” 

“But—”

“I just need some space, okay?” 

“That’s what you said last time!” Simon whined, he didn’t care even he sounded like a first year-this was getting ridiculous.  

“Simon.” She shook her head and withdrew her hand from his (nauseating deja vu). 

Simon watched her leave. Again. His relationship with Agatha this year had been a rollercoaster. (And not those little baby ones. It was more like a never ending loop-de-loop with surprise 90° drops). But it was Agatha. Who was Simon to complain? She was the beauty of Watford, and Simon was lucky enough to be with her (when he was with her). He wasn’t going to complain. Everybody needs space, right? They’d been together for so long… They were seventh years now. It was fair of her to need a break. 

But at Christmas? What a shitty way to start off the holiday. Would Simon still go to the Wellbelove’s for Christmas? 

Simon would just wait until she wanted to get back together. They always got back together (hopefully before Christmas). Because they were Simon and Agatha. 

“She broke it off again, didn’t she?” Penny asked at breakfast, raising an eyebrow at Simon (they were going to get stuck up there on her forehead, if she kept on like this). Penny could read Simon’s face like a children’s book. She took his split second silence as a yes before she launched into her rant. Simon wondered why she hadn’t just recorded it yet, she must have it memorized by now. 

His gaze drifted across the hall to Agatha. The hall was all gorgeous and decorated for the last week before the holiday, but Simon couldn’t focus on the decorations (which he still loved—the homes really rarely decorated like this when he was little). Not when Agatha was across the hall. She normally sat with Simon and Penny. But lately—whenever she decided they needed another break—she spent her meals flirting with Baz. Always Baz. Simon couldn’t understand what she saw in him. Baz was a vampire! A vampire that was plotting to kill him! 

Even if they weren’t technically dating right now, surely she didn’t want him dead. He was constantly sulking around the catacombs, plotting to get rid of Simon. Always plotting. Probably planning their final battle down to the last detail. Simon shuddered at the thought. He knew someday there’d be a final battle between them. Everyone knew. Everyone knew only one of them was making it out of there alive. A cold laugh shattered his thoughts, the sound just a tad too loud, as if Baz wanted him to hear it. Baz was probably trying to emotionally cripple him first. Shake his foundations. It was all a part of his grand plot. 

Simon scowled in Baz and Agatha’s direction, avoiding Baz’s eyes. Agatha wouldn’t meet his eyes. Simon forced himself to look around, and not bore holes into Baz’s head. Penny said he would (bore holes into Baz’s head, that is) if he kept on staring at Baz all the time. So he looked around instead. 

The decorations were beautiful as always and Simon couldn’t help but be jealous of Trixie and Keris giggling under the mistletoe (even if Trixie was half as annoying as Penny claimed, Trixie and her girlfriend really were cute together). There was mistletoe everywhere this year, someone probably put it up to annoy the Mage. He hated the kids who just sat there snogging uselessly, he told Simon, when they could be fighting for the World of Mages. Because magic was always in danger, apparently, which is why the MAge doesn’t celebrate Christmas. He takes the holiday as an excuse to go Humdrum hunting. He once asked Simon to come along, but told him to stay back and guard Watford instead. Over break. That was the first time Simon agreed to go to the Wellbelove’s.

He pushed a butter-laden scone around his plate. His tea was going cold, but he could always have Penny warm it up again. Simon could never remember what spell she used. And anyways, if he tried to heat something he’d just end up setting someone on fire…again. 

“This isn’t healthy, Simon! You need to talk to her—” Simon had mostly given up reasoning with Penny about his relationship with Agatha. She didn’t understand. Her relationship with Micah was just so much different than his and Agatha’s. 

Penny acted like being in a relationship was easy. 

Simon wondered if it was supposed to be this hard. Simon couldn’t focus for the rest of the day. 

He bored (more) holes in the back of Baz’s head all through Politickal Science, wondering what Agatha saw in him. Was it the hair? The pin-straight black hair falling around his face (which Simon knew was a lie). Baz didn’t leave their room until every last strand was perfectly straight. He even used a Normal hair straightener on really humid days if he thought his spells might wear out. Whenever he played on the pitch his hair started to get all wavy. Simon wondered if he spelled it straight again in the locker rooms. 

Maybe Agatha liked Baz because he was on the football team. A lot of girls in their class pined after the team. (Once a girl had even sent Baz a box of magicked chocolates and he dated her for a week before the spell wore off). 

“Simon? Simon!” Miss Possibelf called. Simon felt his face heat up. Penny was trying to communicate the answer via jazz hands. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled and turned back to his empty notebook. 

“Anyone else?” 

Baz answered without raising his hand. He was a teacher favorite. Simon wondered why Baz took Political Science every year, he already knew it all.


	2. chapter two

**Baz**

It was the first snow. Baz loved the first snow. Usually it was a reminder than Christmas was around the corner and he would get to see his family and get a break from the masochistic torture of living with Simon. 

Baz wished he had worn his boots today, but there’s no predicting the weather. (Divination was not Baz’s strong suit). A lot of the first and second years were out on the Great Lawn begging the upperclassmen to enchant their snowmen. Some others threw snowballs and the fight was so violent Baz wasn’t entirely sure it was friendly. 

Baz tugged his hood over his head crossed the drawbridge over the moat. The walk to Mummers was cold and long, but he didn’t really mind. 

Sometimes Baz envied the Normals and their damn elevators. Baz was a bit sick of the endless staircases at Watford. He didn’t care for the extra exercise. When Baz pushed the door open he was grateful to discover that Snow wasn’t in the room (probably out with Agatha or Penelope). 

The only thing waiting for him was a letter from his father. Baz wishes it had been Snow instead. The letter didn’t come exactly as a surprise. Baz knew his father refused to accept the fact that he was gay. And a vampire. His dad so desperately wanted him to marry some pretty girl and carry on the family bloodline. He knew their spat at the beginning of the year was the last straw. He wondered if he’d be able to see his sisters at all. Baz hoped that if he sent a gift for Mordelia she’d get it. 

It wasn’t really like he was being kicked out of his home. The Pitch Manor hadn’t felt like a home since his mother had died. Even then Baz had still felt more at home at Watford. Baz’s room with Simon might be psychological torture and a bit tense but it was his, it was more of a home than the haunted Pitch mansion had ever been.


	3. chapter three

**Simon**

Tonight was the last football game before the winter holiday. Everyone was rallying on the pitch, ready for the game to begin. Penny and Simon were bundled up in scarves. Simon spent the entire game switching between watching Baz and watching Agatha watch Baz. This was the longest break they’d ever taken. In all honesty, not being Agatha’s boyfriend wasn’t much different than being her boyfriend. She was still quiet as always and they’d never been touchy-feely. Agatha didn’t even enjoy holding hands. 

“It’s just, your hands are always so warm!” She complained. 

“I thought that was a good thing!” He shot back.

She sighed. “No, no… It’s sticky and sweaty and it just gets gross after awhile, Simon.” 

Simon wasn’t sure at this point if he wanted Agatha back, or if he just wanted to hold on to the idea of a future. Something normal, something beyond defeating the Humdrum and Baz and the Old Families. Agatha and his future with her—they had always seemed like the same thing, but Simon was starting to see the difference between them. 

The next morning was a Saturday, thankfully. Everyone was preparing for the Christmas Dance tomorrow night. It was the last holiday-hurrah before everyone left for the holidays. He guessed he’d be spending the holidays alone at Watford, because Agatha thought it’d be too awkward. Despite being alone for the holidays, Simon loved Watford when it was empty. One of the cooks always stayed (and Ebb) but even the Mage left for his annual Humdrum hunting trip. Simon stared at the ceiling. 

He hadn’t bothered to try to find a date to the dance, he assumed Agatha would ask him. Simon was wrong. So Simon and Penny were going to hang out at the dance together, and hug punch in the corner. Penny hates the Christmas Dance. He knows she’s only coming so he won’t be alone. 

Baz was taking forever in the bathroom. Simon wondered what he could possibly be doing. He could hear him humming and banging around in there, making sure to wait until the last possible minute to leave so Simon would be late. He had tons of products and stuff that Simon had no idea what they did. The one time he tried a few of them, Baz practically cursed him to hell and back. It all seemed pointless, Simon really didn’t understand what they did. 

Baz finally came out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist and his hair wet and stringy. He smelled like cedar and bergamot. Baz rushed to grab his clothes, and walked back into the bathroom to change. He probably hadn’t expected Simon to be in their room tonight. 

There was a knock at the door. “Agatha?” Simon was stunned (not really, they were Simon and Agatha. They always got back together). 

She blushed. “Oh, hey Simon…” 

“What’re you doing here?” 

She wouldn’t meet his eyes.“Actually, I was um, looking for Baz.”  

Simon’s throat constricted. “Baz!” He snapped, turning back to glare at the bathroom door. 

“Aleister Crowley, Snow! Let me change in peace.”

“You have a visitor.” Simon tried to sound unaffected. He had an inkling that he was failing. He left the door open and sat on his bed. Baz walked to the door, and smirked when he saw Agatha. Like he been expecting her.


	4. chapter four

**Baz**

Snow looked like he was about to go off. Why would Agatha come looking for Baz in the one place she knows Snow would be too? Baz wanted to slam the door on Agatha and comfort Snow. Snow would probably go off on him if he tried something like that. Say he was plotting. “Hello, Wellbelove.” 

“Baz, I was, um… Wondering if you had a date for the dance yet?” 

“No.” Baz would much rather stay in his room and not think about Snow dancing with Agatha. 

“Would you want to go with me?” She was so red in the face. 

Baz wanted to laugh. Tell her how gay he is. “Sure.” 

Baz looked back at Snow. He was livid. He wasn’t saying a word, just stared straight ahead at the bloody open window. He must’ve opened it again, the little shit. 

Agatha kissed Baz’s cheek and left. Baz rubbed his cheek off once she turned to leave, trying to erase the memory of her cold, too-female lips from his mind. 

“You fucking asshole!” Snow shouted. 

Ah, there it is. 

Baz didn’t even hear half of his shouting, he was too mesmerized by Snow’s blush and the look in his eyes. “Snow.” 

“—and now you’re going to fucking date my ex-girlfriend? Bloody hell, Baz! Is this just a part of your grand plot!?” 

The room was starting to heat up. “Snow.” Baz said again. 

“My name is Simon! You’ve called me Simon once! When we met, you know that?! Once!” He was losing it. Tears were streaking down his cheeks. 

“Why do you do this to me? What did I ever do to you to make you this miserable!?” Baz slammed the door behind him, leaving a smoking (literally) Simon in their room. This was going to work out to be the worst Christmas of his life.

Baz regretted agreeing to go to the dance with Agatha. He really didn’t want to go at all, and he was quite certain it would just a night of Simon Snow-related drama. Simon hadn’t come back to their room yet, thankfully. 

Baz couldn’t decide which of his suits to wear. The green one? It was one of his favorites. It seemed a bit much to waste it on Agatha. Baz wished he was wearing his favorite green suit to the dance with Snow. Now he needed a tie. 

Aleister Crowley. He hadn’t even known they’d broken it off again. Normally it was easy enough to read Snow, and the rumours spread like wildfire around Watford. Baz guessed their constant on and off relationship wasn’t really interesting news anymore, not since Agatha changed her mind every two weeks. The door swung open as Baz knotted his tie. Snow pushed past Baz into the bathroom, the lock clicking behind him. The shower started. 

Was Snow even going to the dance? Baz debated asking.


	5. chapter 5

**Simon**

Simon had nothing to say to Baz (he never really did, actually). He couldn’t believe Baz was so heartless as to take his ex-girlfriend to the dance. 

“Simon, stop staring.” Penelope snapped in front of his nose. 

Simon turned back to her. “Sorry, Penny. But just look at him, all smug in that tight green suit, where do you even get a green suit!? And now Agatha’s laughing, he’s not funny. I live with him, Penny. I know he’s not funny, he—” 

“Well, Simon, you two barely know each other. Maybe he is funny. Why would he tell his nemesis jokes?” Penny sighed.

Simon snorted, poured himself another punch and grabbed his eighth scone. A half hour later, Simon tried to get Penny to dance. “I just want to hear what they’re saying, Penny! I won’t go off or start a fight or anything!” 

“I’m not dancing, Simon. I don’t even dance with Micah.” 

Simon crossed his arms.“Well, you’d have to see Micah in person to dance with him, so that’s not really fair.”  Penny glared at him. 

“Please?” 

“Eavesdropping on Agatha isn’t exactly a good way of wooing her.” 

“Who the hell says ‘wooing’?!” Simon laughed. 

When Simon woke up, he was excited to have Watford to himself. He had slept in and everyone going home had usually left by now. He took a shower, and tried to forget how happy Agatha and Baz looked together last night. Without Baz here to embarrass and harass him, Simon sang as loud as he wanted in the shower. He loved to sing. Unfortunately, the Watford choir had rejected him in favor of people who weren’t “tone deaf.” 

Knock knock. “Shut up, Snow!” Baz shouted.

Simon slipped. Ten minutes later, he stormed out of the bathroom, rubbing the bump on his head. A new bruise was forming on his ass, too. 

“Fucking hell, Baz!” Simon shouted, and Baz was cackling. 

“What are you even doing here?” Simon asked. 

Baz waved his hand. “What happened to your hip?” 

Simon frowned. “You.” Baz slipped his wand from his sleeve, casting a healing spell Simon didn’t know. The bruise faded, as well as the pounding in his head. 

“Uh, thanks…” Simon said. Baz shrugged, and grabbed his coat. “Where are you going?” Simon asked. He hadn’t even figured out what Baz was still doing here. Baz never missed Christmas with his family. Did he miss the train? Was he staying back to plot against Simon and watch him for the Old Families? 

“Breakfast.” Baz snapped, gracefully ducking out of the room. Simon wondered whether he meant blood or actual food. 

After changing, Simon rushed down to the dining hall. Baz was sitting in his usual seat. He was the only one in the hall. He didn’t bother to glance up at Simon as Simon got his food. Before convincing himself otherwise, Simon awkwardly pulled out the chair next to Baz. Dev normally sat there. Baz raised an eyebrow as Simon sat down. The chair made a horrific squeaking noise and Simon instantly regretted his decision. 

“Why.” Baz stated. It was barely a question. 

Simon shrugged, and started to inhale his scone. “Could you fit more butter on that?” Baz scoffed in disgust.“ Simon shrugged again. It was good, butter is delicious. Baz had stopped eating the moment Simon sat down. 

"Why aren’t you eating?” Simon asked. Baz didn’t acknowledge the question. “Baz…?” Simon whined. 

Baz looked his way. “None of your business, Snow.” 

“Do you have to eat?” Baz narrowed his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I have to eat?” 

“I know you’re a vampire, Baz.” Baz looked away, ignoring Simon. “Why won’t you admit it?” Simon asked. “I swear, I won’t tell the Mage.” Baz whipped his head around at that. 

He looked genuinely surprised. “Why?” 

“I don’t want you dead, Baz.” 

Baz raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to kill me? You don’t hate me with every fiber of your slighter shorter being?” 

“I… I don’t really hate you, I guess. I hate the Humdrum. He’s my enemy. Not you.” Simon could feel himself blushing under Baz’s intense gaze. Baz started to tug on his jacket. “Wait for me!” Simon whined at him. 

Baz looked confused. “What, Snow, can’t you be alone for a few seconds?” 

“Just… I… Please?” Simon sputtered out. Baz let out an aggravated moan, but he waited for Simon to finish. Simon shoved an apple in his pocket and followed Baz outside. He started walking towards the moat, and Simon trailed behind him. 

“I know you’re there, Snow. Walk with me and stop creeping like that, or go away.” Baz snapped. Simon bounded up next to him, coming to the realization that they had no idea how walk together. The cold air nipped at Simon’s fingers and nose. It was still snowing, and Baz tried to stay in the already trodden paths of the other students who left this morning. Stopping at the moat, Baz wiped off a bench. Shoving his hands in his pocket, he sat down. Baz grumbled something under his breath, staring at the half-frozen moat. 

“What?” Simon asked. 

“Hate the fucking merwolves.” Baz mumbled. Simon laughed.

 


	6. chapter six

**Baz**

His laugh was almost more golden than his hair. Baz had heard it before, but it was entirely different when Baz was the one making Simon laugh. Why wouldn’t Snow leave him alone? Baz considered all the time he’d spent with Simon over the years and this was definitely the longest they’d been near each other without fighting. Baz quite liked it. Not that he’d ever admit it to Simon. 

“Are you going to date Agatha now?” Simon asked nervously. 

“Is that why you’ve been trailing me all morning?” 

Simon shrugged. And Baz thought they’d made progress. That something, maybe something had changed between them. Baz’s vision almost went red. 

He decided to be honest. “No.” Baz snarled. 

Simon looked genuinely surprised. “Really?” He asked. 

“Do you want me to?” Baz almost laughed at his incredulity. 

“Well… No, I just… Well you, I mean… She always flirts with you… And you flirt with her… And you hate me…” Simon stumbled. His breath was visible in the air. This time Baz shrugged. He wondered what Snow would do if Baz reached out and held his hand. Baz let himself daydream, imagining that it was like this all the time with Simon. That they were mutually in love and just out together because they wanted to be. Baz almost laughed out loud at the thought. Instead of reaching for his hand, Baz got up and walked away. Simon didn’t follow him this time.  


	7. chapter seven

**Simon**

Simon didn’t know why Baz wasn’t with his family. Simon didn’t understand why Baz looked more depressing than his usual pale, vampire self. Simon also didn’t know why he felt the need to fix it. Baz was his enemy, yeah, but didn’t they just spend the morning together, alone, without killing each other? 

Simon wondered why they couldn’t of been friends, apart from the obvious. Yeah, the Old Families hated Simon and they wanted to kill him, but that didn’t mean Simon and Baz could have been nice or even just indifferent to each other. 

Simon didn’t follow Baz because he was headed towards the catacombs. Fifth-year-Simon would’ve. He would’ve wanted to catch Baz doing his vampire-thing. Simon figured he could cut Baz some slack. It was two days to Christmas, anyhow. Which meant it was fucking cold out. 

Simon started back towards Mummers house. It seemed him and Baz were the only ones at Watford for Christmas. Simon, Baz… And Ebb. 

Ebb! Simon hadn’t visited Watford’s goatherd yet this year. She was one of his favorite people. He always meant to go visit her, but he was always busy. Homework, or Agatha, or Baz, or homework, or the Humdrum, or Penny, or all of them combined. 

Simon smiled and started half-jogging through the snow. Ebb and the goats were out on the hills, but Simon didn’t mind. Even if the snow was really deep. Simon knocked on her door, hoping he wouldn’t startle her. 

Ebb smiled when she opened the door. “Simon! What a pleasant surprise.” She smiled, but it wasn’t reaching her eyes. Ebb was very melancholy. Simon imagines she really misses her brother around this time of year. She’s always more weepy around the big holidays. Ebb doesn’t talk about her brother at all, but the one time why she actually admitted why she was so sad. Apparently she’d never gotten over his death. Simon guessed they must’ve been close. 

He admired Ebb, she lived her life like she wanted to. She was one of the most powerful magicians alive, maybe even more powerful than the Mage (not that Simon would ever say that out loud). Simon was almost certain she’d give it away in a second. Ebb never wanted the responsibility of it. She just wanted to care for the goats. “Do you want some cocoa, Simon?” Ebb asked, already boiling the water. Simon nodded, looking around Ebb’s little hut. It was a bit of a mess, but it was cozy. Simon used to have a recurring dream when he was little that he lived here when he was older, the way Ebb did, but with Agatha. Simon never really wanted to be alone again, like he used to be. 

The rug on the floor was tattered and worn, and the patterns were faded. Dust had collected on the big dresser where Simon guessed Ebb kept most of her things. Little trinkets were scattered across the shelves on top. A fire was crackling in the fireplace. Ebb was boiling water in a pot over the fire, even though they both knew she could do it without expending an ounce of her magic. Simon peeked at Ebb’s trinkets on her dresser. Simon often wondered where she got most of them. A few of the little porcelain goats were ones that Simon had bought Ebb for Christmas over the years. Simon smiled, knowing that she kept and cherished them. 

A small unmade bed was in the corner and Simon wondered how often Ebb even slept. She was always with the goats. “Here you go,” she said, handing him a chipped mug. Simon took a deep breath of the steaming cocoa as he sat cross legged in one of the creaky wooden chairs. Ebb sat down across from him. 

“What about Agatha?” Ebb asked. She was just like Penny-she always she what he was thinking. Maybe she could read his mind (she was so powerful, Simon wouldn’t really be surprised). 

Simon shrugged, “She broke it off. For good, this time. I think.” 

“I’m sorry Simon. That sucks.” Ebb offered. 

“Mm. Well, I’m not that sorry. I don’t think I loved her the way I thought I did. She’s got a crush on Baz, anyhow.” Simon admitted. 

“Oh?” Ebb raised an eyebrow, “Baz seems like a good chap.” 

“He tried to kill me!” Simon exclaimed, flustered. 

“Not recently.” She smiled mischievously, like she knew something. She probably did. Ebb knew everything that happened at Watford. 

“Isn’t that him?” Ebb asked. 

“What?!” Simon exclaimed. 

Ebb gestured out the window and surely enough Baz was wandering across the fields, tugging his coat around himself in the wind. His hair (it was all wavy again, the snow must’ve wet it) was whipping around him, and the snow was coming down harder. 

“Looks like a blizzard soon, Simon. You should head back to Mummers.” 

Simon hadn’t stopped looking at Baz fighting through the storm. “Okay… Okay. Thank you for the cocoa. And the chat. Happy Christmas, Ebb.” 

“I’ll see you around. The goats miss you.” Simon smiled and wrapped his scarf up around his neck. He started running through the snow and the wind whipped at his face, stinging in the cold. Simon was about to call out to Baz to wait up, but the flaming (literally) idiot held his hand out and lit a fire in his palm. 

Simon’s breath caught in his throat. “Baz!” He screamed. 

The fire went out immediately, and Baz whipped around. “Crowley, Snow.” He rolled his eyes. 

“You’ll die.” Simon sputtered, coming to walk by Baz’s side, horrifyingly out of breath. 

“Some of us have our magic under control, Snow.“ He said, but he put it out and shoved his hands in his pocket. 

Simon flinched. They walked in silence back to Mummers, and Baz opened the door. Simon shook the snow off himself, and tugged off a now-wet jacket. 

"Fuck, it’s cold.” Baz murmured. In their room, Simon changed his wet clothes and curled up under his blanket. Baz pulled out a candle and set it on his dresser. 

“We’re not supposed to have fire in our rooms-” Baz lit the candle with a graceful flick of the wrist. It was like fire was a part of him. His eyes challenged Simon to argue with him, but Simon was too tired. 

Baz sat on the floor next to his bed and reached underneath. Seconds later he pulled out a bottle of wine (expensive wine, the bloody prat. Not even the cheap alcohol Agatha talked about having at parties). 

“Baz.” Simon said. Baz popped the cork and tipped the bottle back. He held the bottle out for Simon and raised an eyebrow in question. Simon slid down onto the floor across from Baz. The scratched wood was like ice. Baz didn’t seem to notice and took another sip after Simon.  


	8. chapter eight

**Baz**

Snow hadn’t tried starting a conversation yet again and Baz was starting to get bugged by the silence. They’d been trading the bottle back and forth for awhile now and it was getting dark outside. The snow was still coming down heavily. Baz sent the bottle down between his legs and shivered. The floor was freezing. 

Snow glanced at him. “Are you cold?” 

“I’m always cold, Snow.” 

“Don’t you have a sweater, at least?” Snow asked, reaching for the bottle. 

“What do you care?” 

“It’s freezing!”

“No.” 

“What?” 

“No, I don’t have a sweater.” Baz hissed. 

Snow crawled over to his side and wrapped his blanket around them both. Baz barely caught the hitch in his breathing. He’d never been this close to Snow, not unless they were fighting. 

Snow was already tipsy and he’d gotten clumsy (clumsier than usual). When he almost dropped the bottle, he started giggling. Baz couldn’t help but stare. He had zero tolerance. Baz couldn’t help but admit he wasn’t sober anymore either. Drunk Snow was perfectly comfortable pressing into Baz’s side, grabbing for the bottle in Baz’s grip. 

“Baz…?” Snow whined. 

“Hmm?” Baz raised an eyebrow, ignoring the urge to press a kiss to his freckled nose. 

“Why didn’t you go home for the holidays? You always do.” 

“I got kicked out.” Baz shrugged, looking down at his lap. He turned the almost empty bottle over in his hands. 

Snow’s eyes widened. “Why?” “My dad doesn’t like the fact that I’m…” Baz caught himself. Would Snow get weird if he knew he had a gay roommate? It would ruin his Agatha ruse. 

“That what?” Simon asked, looking up at Baz. 

Oh, fuck it all. “That I’m a gay vampire. A disappointment.” 

“You’re gay?!” Snow asked, “But I thought you liked Agatha! Oh my god… You were just trying to piss me off, weren’t you?” Snow laughed. 

“You don’t care that I’m gay?” Baz whispered. 

Snow shrugged, tipping his head back, and closing his eyes. “Nope. S'not that big of a deal, drama queen.” Snow giggled. 

Baz caught himself smiling. He’d predicted that Snow would get all weird. 

“AHA!” Snow sat up. Baz jumped. “You,” he smiled lazily, “just said that you’re a vampire!” Baz frowned. He’d let that slip out (damn alcohol). “Are you gonna bite me?” Snow whispered, giggling again. 

“No. I don’t bite humans.” 

“Ever?” Snow’s eyes were wide. He huddled closer to Baz in the blanket (Baz couldn’t decide between kissing him or killing him when he was this close). 

Baz nodded. “Just animals.” 

“Do you like Christmas?” Snow blurted out. 

“Yes.” Baz said. 

Snow was like a baby when he was drunk. And a little too cuddly. Much too close for Baz to act sane. 

“Never got any.” Snow mumbled. 

“What?” Baz asked. Snow’s words were going blurry. “Presents. In the home? Nothing.” Snow shrugged. Baz considered that. It was horribly depressing. Snow nodded off after that. Baz was frozen to the spot. Snow’s head was on his shoulder. Baz contemplated shoving him off, but he didn’t want to. This would be his Christmas present.


	9. chapter nine

**Simon**

When Simon woke up, Baz was gone, and Simon was curled up under his blanket in his bed. He could’ve sworn he fell asleep on the floor, but maybe he’d blacked out for the rest. His head was pounding a bit. Simon remembered most of their conversation from last night. Baz was gay. And he admitted he was a vampire. Simon considered trying to contact Penelope, but Baz obviously wasn’t out. Even if he was Simon’s enemy, Simon wasn’t going to go around telling everyone. That wasn’t fair. 

Simon was hungry. Maybe he’d find Baz in the hall. Hopefully. Simon hoped he hadn’t been too weird while he was drunk. He didn’t get drunk. Ever. Usually. 

But Baz was nowhere to be found. Simon even tried a tracking spell. Of course it didn’t work for him. Simon wondered if Baz had gone into town. There was a nearby town of mages that all the students visited for fun on the weekends. 

The snow had finally stopped, and there was at least three feet of snow on the ground. Most of the roads in town were cleared, thankfully, save for a dusting of snow on the pavement. A few kids whispered and pointed at Simon, tugging on their parents sleeves, who pretended not to keep staring after telling there kids how rude it was to stare and point at strangers. Simon wondered if he’d run into anyone from school downtown, because there were a few day students in local towns who lived close enough that boarding at Watford was kinda pointless. 

He pulled his hood down farther and peeked in the storefronts. He stopped when he saw a dark green jumper in one of the shops. He flashed back to Baz shivering under the blanket last night. The storekeeper didn’t say a word to Simon as he paid, just stared at him. Maybe Simon should come down to town more with Penny, maybe people would get over staring at him so much. He hated being the Chosen One. They all expected him to be some miracle worker, to save the World of Mages from the Insidious Humdrum. Or maybe they expected him to just go off. Word must’ve gotten around that he didn’t live up to his title. 

Simon bought the sweater without thinking about it (he must still be drunk from the night before, Simon was really losing it). It wasn’t weird, he just didn’t want to share a blanket with Baz, that was all. 

Simon then turned into a pastry shop and the store owner smiled when the bells jingled. Here, Simon was a regular. Maybe the storekeeper recognized him. Simon bought eight scones (raisin scones, nothing like Cook Pritchard’s heavenly sour cherry scones). Two of them were gone by the time he made it back to Watford. 

It was already starting to get dark. Simon went down to the dining hall for dinner. Baz was still nowhere to be found. He was probably off plotting in the catacombs. 

Simon showered when he got back to their room and stashed the jumper under his bed. Baz didn’t come back and Simon didn’t wait up. He laid down in his bed, and stared at the ceiling. He hadn’t fought with Baz yet. It was getting so weird, Simon wanted to start a petty fight just to make it normal again. Simon smirked and opened the window, knowing it would piss Baz off to no ends.


	10. chapter ten

**Baz**

Fucking Snow. It was frigid and he opened the window to piss Baz off. The idiot had kicked off all his blankets and was shivering blue in the dark. All in an attempt to piss Baz off. 

“Aleister Crowley, Snow!” Baz shouted and Snow jumped. 

“It’s bloody freezing, what is wrong with you!?” Baz yelled. 

Snow’s lips were almost purple. He shrugged. Baz slammed the window shut. 

Snow on shrieked as Baz pulled his wand, “Anathema!” Snow looked instantly better as the warming spell hit him. “Oh, uh… Thanks again, I guess.” 

Baz didn’t answer, but went to go shower instead. When he came out, he found Snow sitting by a roaring fire in the common room and the tree was all lit up. 

“Happy Christmas, Snow.” Baz snorted, sitting down by him. 

“Happy Christmas, Baz… Oh! I forgot—” he ran upstairs, abandoning the rest of his sentence. He came back with a little shop bag and sheepishly handed it to Baz. 

“You got me a gift?” 

“Well, I was in town, and then I remembered, so, I mean, I guess it’s a Christmas present 'cause it’s Christmas… Uh…” He ran a hand through his curls, blushing. Baz peeked inside the bag, and saw a gorgeous, expensive, dark green jumper Baz had been eyeing for weeks. He set the bag down and shoved a hand in his pocket, reaching for the little Watford snow globe he’d bought for Snow. He blushed and pressed it into Snow’s hand without saying anything. 

“You got me something? Why!?” Snow looked fascinated and he was turning the snow globe over in his hands, carefully stroking a thumb over the glass. What Baz wouldn’t give to be that snow globe.

“Last night you said you never got Christmas presents. I thought it was pathetic.” Baz admitted. Snow smiled and plopped down on the loveseat next to Baz. 

“This is nice.” Simon sighed. 

“What?” 

“The not-fighting. I don’t like fighting with you. I like this better.” 

“What’s 'this’?” Baz sneered. 

“I don’t know, friends?” Simon mumbled. Baz didn’t answer. He got up and left instead. 

“Where the hell’d you go?” Snow snapped when Baz returned. Food had been the perfect excuse not to be too nice to Snow. He couldn’t be friends with Snow- he could barely handle being in love with him when Snow hated him. If Snow started being friendly with him, he might just die. 

“Food.” Baz held up a basket from the kitchen. He handed Snow a scone and sat down next to him. 

“Aren’t you going to eat?” 

Baz shook his head. 

“Are you anorexic? I never see you eat anything.” Snow bugged. 

“Crowley, Snow, no. I’m not anorexic. I don’t like eating in front of people.” 

“Why?” Snow pushed. 

“Fangs.” 

Snow’s mouth formed a little 'oh.’ 

“It’s just me, though.” Snow shrugged and broke off half his scone to give to Baz. Baz still covered his mouth with his hand, chewing carefully. Snow frowned and pulled his hand down. Baz stared at Snow with wide eyes. Snow wasn’t letting go of Baz’s hand. Baz was about to have a heart attack. Baz yanked his hand away, and didn’t look Simon in the eyes. He swallowed carefully. 

“Can I see them?” Snow begged. Baz considered it a moment, and conceded. He couldn’t deny this boy anything. 

He pulled his lips back slowly, and Snow stared in awe. “They’re so sharp.” 

Baz shrugged. He hated to think about them. He hated that this was a part of his life. The fire was dying and Baz lit it up again. The room was warm and they were alone, curled up on the loveseat on Christmas morning. It was all of Baz’s fantasies come to life except that he still couldn’t reach over and kiss Snow. 

“Baz.” Snow whispered. 

“Mm?” Baz hummed, not looking at Snow, he was too wrapped up in his fantasies. 

“Baz.” Snow said again. 

Baz turned to Snow, “Snow—” But Baz was cut off when Snow pressed his lips to Baz’s. 

His eyes bugged out, before he leaned into the kiss. Snow was a good kisser. Baz, on the other hand, had no idea what he was doing. Baz’s hands wound their way into his golden curls. They were softer than he ever imagined. Snow moaned into Baz’s mouth (he moaned). Snow grabbed the hem of Baz’s shirt and dragged Baz on top of him. Snow dragged Baz down onto the floor and rolled on top of him. His cross slipped down, hitting Baz on the side of his neck. Baz cried out in pain. Snow shot up immediately, straddling Baz. 

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry.” He yanked the cross up over his head and tossed it straight into the fire. 

“Your cross-” 

“I don’t need it.” Snow mumbled, leaning down again. 

“Snow—” Baz gasped. Snow crawled off him immediately and Baz sat up. 

“I’m sorry, I just—” Snow was blushing furiously. Baz caught his breath. “Simon.” Snow froze. 

“What are we doing?” Baz asked. 

Snow was blushing madly. “Well, I was kissing you—” 

“Why?“

Snow shrugged, "I guess I wanted to… I’m sorry, I made this so awkward, Merlin, and we were finally getting along-” Simon’s whole face was red, and Baz laughed. 

“Oh god, oh god, you’re going to tell the whole school, aren’t you!” Snow was getting worked up now. Baz tugged on his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. Baz could feel his smile as Simon pressed his lips to Baz’s neck. The fire was dying again and Baz didn’t bother to relight it. Snow was pressed into his side and he reached over and twined his fingers with Baz’s. Neither of them had said anything since they stopped kissing. 

“I told you why I kissed you, but why’d you kiss me back?” 

Baz turned his head, his nose brushing against Snow’s. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you, you bloody idiot.” 

Snow beamed. Idiot. He reached out and pushed Baz’s hair behind his ear, brushing a thumb across his cheek. 

“Are you even gay, Simon?” Baz whispered. He shrugged (again) and pressed his lips to Baz’s. 

“I know that I like this,” Simon mumbled into his mouth, rolling on top of Baz again. 

Baz woke up in Snow’s arms the next morning and his breath hitched when he realized it wasn’t a dream (for once). Simon Snow had kissed him. He had kissed Simon Snow. Snow squirmed awake not much later, beaming at Baz with a sleepy smile. He tucked his head into the crook of Baz’s neck, pressing a soft kiss under his jaw. 

“Do we have to get up?” Snow whined. Baz groaned, but tugged Snow up with him. They showered (separately) and changed. Baz tugged on the sweater Snow got him. 

“Hot.” Snow said. 

“What?” 

“You look hot in the sweater I bought you.” Snow blushed. 

Baz smirked. “I’m hot?” 

“Shut up.” He mumbled. 

“You’re adorable, Simon Snow.” Baz breathed, shaking his head. Snow grabbed Baz’s hand in his and dragged him out the door.


	11. chapter eleven

**Simon**

Baz looked so happy. Simon couldn’t believe he’d ignored this for so long. Simon had wanted this—the not-fighting, the snogging, Baz in a big green sweater and his hand in Simon's—this, for so long. And he convinced himself it was hatred instead. 

What would the Mage think? He’d always told Simon he thought not letting gays practice magic at Watford was the one thing the Old Families got right. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“The Mage.” Simon frowned. 

Baz’s eyes darkened and he began to pull his hand away. He must know exactly what Simon meant. The Mage was quite vocal about his opinions.  

“No, Baz, I just mean, I don’t know… He probably won’t be happy. I don’t care though.” Simon shrugged. 

“You would defy the Mage for your enemy?” 

“You’re not my enemy, you’re my boyfriend.” Simon reminded him. 

Baz smiled. It was gorgeous.


	12. chapter twelve

**Baz**

Baz wasn’t very confident when it came to being with someone he actually wanted, apparently. Snow noticed he was too scared to initiate anything, as if he thought Snow was playing him. 

“People are going to start coming back tomorrow.” Snow said, curled up on Baz’s lap in the common room. 

“Fuck.” Baz mumbled. Snow kissed his neck, working his way up to Baz’s mouth. Snow straddled Baz’s hips and Baz mewed softly, sighing into Simon’s mouth. Baz played with the hem of Simon’s shirt, his fingers lightly brushing under it. 

“Off?” Baz asked. 

“What?” Snow hummed. Baz tugged on his shirt again. Snow nodded and Baz tugged Simon’s shirt off speedily. Baz kissed each mole, working his way down Snow’s chest. He was living his fantasy. Snow wouldn’t leave his neck alone. Baz couldn’t take it. 

“You have a neck fetish.” Snow shrugged. 

Baz needed to know. “Did you kiss Agatha like this?” 

“Way to kill the mood.” Simon pulled away. 

“It’s just—”

“No.” He crawled off Baz’s lap, settling on the other side of the couch with his arms crossed over his chest. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Baz finally had everything the wanted and he was going to lose it because of a stupid, jealous question. The tension in the air was palpable as Snow pulled his shirt back on. Baz didn’t know what to say to make it okay again. To make Snow crawl back into his lap so Baz could keep kissing him like the world was ending, like the whole student body of Watford wasn’t returning tomorrow and they couldn’t be like this anymore. 

“Why would you even ask that!?” Snow exploded out of the blue, causing Baz to jump. 

“How do I know that you’re not with me just because you couldn’t have her?” Baz whispered. He couldn’t stop himself. 

“You’re such a fucking idiot.” Snow mumbled, “No, Agatha and I kissed once. Once, Baz. I’m with you because I want to be here, with you.” 

Baz couldn’t help but smile. Snow grinned back at him and then slid off the couch. “Let’s go get some food, okay? I’m starving.” 

“Of course you are,” Baz rolled his eyes, “I’m going to go grab my sweater. I’ll meet you in the dining hall.” 

Snow nodded, and Baz heard the door creak shut as he ran back up the stairs. Snow’s scarf was on the bed. Baz grabbed it for him, and opened the door to leave. 

“Agatha!” Baz tripped backwards, losing his cool (which was quite are. All this snogging was throwing off his game). 

“Baz! The rumors were true, then? I was hoping to catch you today. I convinced my parents to let me come back a day early. I wanted to talk to you.” She smiled. 

Baz smirked and leaned up against the doorframe, “Okay.” 

“You and Simon didn’t kill each other, oh my god, you guys have been here alone all week, haven’t you? Where’s Simon?” Waiting for me in the dining hall. 

“Like hell if I know, Wellbelove.” 

“Oh. Well, here’s a gift my parents got him, could you put it on his bed?” Baz tossed the box over his shoulder and it landed on Snow’s bed. 

Wellbelove started fidgeting. “Spit it out.” Baz snapped, desperate to get down to the hall before Snow came looking for him. 

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out? I had a lot of fun at the dance with you and—” she spat breathlessly and Baz didn’t have a clue how to tell her that he was taken, and gay (so gay, for her ex boyfriend, no less). Baz mulled over his answer a second. Should he just tell her he’s gay? She never talked to anyone but Bunce and Snow anyways. 

“Wellbelove,” 

“Yeah?” Baz almost felt guilty, she looked so hopeful, “I’m gay.” 

“Oh, oh, oh my, I’m sorry. I, uh… I’ll go…” She rushed out. Baz imagined his heart would be pounding a million miles a minute if it was still pumping. 

He rushed down to the dining hall, where Snow was waiting with a big plate of food at Baz’s seat. Baz couldn’t help but grin at Snow as he wrapped the scarf around Snow’s neck and dragged him in for a kiss. 

“What took so long?” Snow whined, brushing snow off Baz’s coat. 

“Wellbelove stopped by our room.” Snow tensed up. 

“And?” 

“She left you a gift from her parents. And then she asked me out.” Snow frowned. 

“What, are you jealous, Snow?” 

“Not of her, no…” He was blushing furiously, “what’d you tell her?” 

“That I’m gay.” Baz shrugged. 

“I thought you were still closeted.” Snow looked horribly confused. 

“I guess not. Not like she’ll go telling everyone, right?” 

“Well, I dunno…” Snow said. He started nibbling on a scone nervously and went silent. 

“It’s over, isn’t it?” Baz asked numbly. 

Snow choked on a scone, “what?!” 

“Hanging out around Watford. Being able to hang out freely.” Baz corrected. 

“Merlin, Baz…” Snow shook his head, “way to give a boy a fucking heart attack. And yeah. I guess it is.”


	13. chapter thirteen

**Simon**

****

“Baz?” Simon whispered into the dark. 

“Yeah?” Baz yawned. 

“I’m cold.” 

“Well, Snow, if you didn’t leave the fucking window open all the time—” 

The edge of Baz’s bed dipped as Simon plopped down, “Shut up.” 

“Make me.” Baz teased him. Simon crawled on top of Baz, straddling him. Simon kissed Baz before he could say anything else. 

Simon woke to a loud bang on the door and shot out of Baz’s arms and onto the cold, hard floor. Penny opened the door and walked in. Simon could see Baz trying not to laugh as he rubbed his head. 

“Bunce, did you forget where your room is?” 

“Happy Christmas to you too, Basil.” Penny rolled her eyes. Simon got up off the floor, and picked up the first sweater he saw. Baz excused himself to take a shower, leaving Simon alone with Penny. 

“I thought you guys would kill each other when Agatha told me you were stuck here for a week alone.” Penny sighed. Simon shrugged and tried to ignore the heat rising up the back of his neck. That’s nothing close to what they did (quite the opposite, really). 

“Are you gonna come down to breakfast?” 

“What?” 

“Have you any clue what time it is? Why do you think I came up here?” Penny sighed. 

“I must’ve slept in.” Simon shrugged, hoping she’d buy the excuse (Being wrapped up with Baz was just so much nicer). 

“Just let me get dressed.” Simon sighed. 

Agatha was waiting at their table, surprisingly. Guess she finally gave up on Baz. 

“How was your break, Penny?” Agatha asked as they sat down with their food. 

“Good, how about y—” 

“Baz is gay!” She hissed lowly. Penny looked surprised and Simon realized too late that he hadn’t reacted properly. 

“Did you know?!” Penny asked. 

“Um, yeah. I did.” Simon admitted, shrugging. 

The look Penny gave Simon was pure betrayal. “When do you and Baz even talk? How did you know? Why didn’t you tell me?!” 

“I—” the doors swung open and Baz walked in. Both girls watched his every move, and Simon squirmed in his seat. He already missed sitting with Baz. 

“Does it make you uncomfortable rooming with him?” Agatha asked. 

“Does what?” 

“He’s gay, Simon.” 

“Oh, no. I’m not bothered by it.” (Simon quite liked it, actually). 

“Huh.” Agatha went to get a drink, and Simon turned to ask Penny about her break. She was staring intently at Baz, as if she expected to see gay written across his forehead. 

“What’s the big deal?” Simon asked, nudging her. 

“I don’t know, I’m just surprised. How did you find out?” She asked. 

“He, uh, told me.” Simon sputtered. 

“When?!” 

“This week.” Simon picked nervously at his food. 

“You guys talked about actual stuff, instead of harassing each other?” 

“A little?” Simon shrugged. 

“Is the world upside down?” She rubbed her temples. 

 


	14. chapter fourteen

**Baz**

Baz waited for Snow in their room. He’d promised to finish up with Penny in the library as soon as possible. Snow looked exhausted when he walked in. His hair was a mess, and his tie was undone. 

“What’s wrong?” Baz asked. 

“Penny is angry that I didn’t tell her you were gay and then Agatha told her and…” He flopped down on the bed, groaning into Baz’s pillow. Baz nervously laid a hand on Snow’s back, just barely rubbing his shoulder blade. Snow had closed his eyes, letting Baz rub his back. Baz couldn’t help but stare at the freckled boy he’d pined after for years. He couldn’t believe Snow was sitting here, letting Baz be the one to comfort him. Baz propped a pillow up against the wall and leaned back. Snow looked up when Baz pulled his hand away. 

“You’re a mess.” Baz laughed, looking at Simon’s rumpled appearance. Snow crawled over, kneeling between Baz’s legs. Baz waited an awkward minute, waiting for Snow to do something. 

Snow raised an eyebrow, smirking at Baz. “Now you’re shy?” 

“Shut up.” He dragged Simon in by the ends of his tie and tossed it across the room. Baz got rid of Snow’s ill-fitted uniform blazer next, pushing it off Snow’s shoulders and tossing it onto the floor. Snow had tucked himself in Baz’s lap again. 

“You’re like a lap dog, Snow.” Baz rolled his eyes. Snow shrugged and pressed a soft kiss to Baz’s collar bone before closing his eyes. 

Baz had watched Snow wake up countless times, but it was completely different when Snow was in Baz’s arms and Baz could smell his morning breath. 

“Fucking waste.” Snow muttered. 

“What?” 

“We fucking wasted the last seven years fighting.” 

“Yeah. We did.” 

“Wanna spend the next seven kissing instead?”


End file.
